


No Mistakes. Just Happy, Above Average Accidents.

by grotkingji



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art Room Sex, Awkward Flirting, Bottom Kim Seungmin, But Jisung's a Music Major also, Hook-Up, Jisung is very acquainted with a storage closet, Life Drawing, Life Drawing Model Jisung, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Seungmin has glasses in this, Seungmin is determined, Smut, Top Han Jisung | Han, Vis Arts Student Seungmin, Wall Sex, inconvenient boners, jisung is embarrassed, kinda soft at the end, some feelings involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grotkingji/pseuds/grotkingji
Summary: Jisung’s Uni life was, in one word, interesting. Not just anyone takes up a job offer to become a nude model but here Jisung is, naked and under the hot stare of an incredibly attractive art student. And oh boy, does trouble rise.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 330
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	No Mistakes. Just Happy, Above Average Accidents.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for Prompt 54: Character A is in a painting class. Character B is the naked model. Character A has an intense stare whenever he paints, and Character B finds himself sporting a semi under that sharp look.

It's just another day for Jisung. 

Wake up and debate whether or not he should even go to his morning music theory class. Eventually, he’d drag himself out of his dorm and then grab a coffee on his way to his side job which just so happened to be across his campus. 

It all started six months ago when he saw an advertisement for a life drawing model position on the notice board outside the music department staff room. It seemed kind of weird at first, who would be willing to pose naked in front of a group of college kids while they drew you? But then he noticed “PAID POSITION” in big, red letters and immediately all his previous thoughts flew right out the window. 

“Fuck it,” Jisung grinned as ripped the piece of paper off the cork board, running across campus to the Visual Arts department. 

He got a call a week later, letting him know that he had been accepted and that he’s been booked for the week after at a small art studio a block away. Excited, despite the queasy feeling of nerves in his stomach, he delved into forums and articles written to introduce new models to the position. He spent his free hours during the week working on poses, positioning his body in front of his very narrow, shitty, full-length mirror. He’d even ask his roommate for their opinion, interrupting his studying to elongate his body, mirroring Greek statues. 

Of course, his first time was kind of iffy. It was the first time he had stripped in front of more than one person and the first time he had stripped in front of an elderly lady. He really hoped that he was just making it up in his head that she was overly attentive. After all, she had to be to some extent. The uncomfortable feeling eventually faded when he forced himself to not think about being naked, and to not really think at all. He caught a glimpse of the older woman’s drawings at the end of the session and a strange, warm feeling washed over him.

Some poses were a hit or miss and Jisung ended up resorting to simpler poses after he learnt that holding some of the more visually interesting ones caused his muscles to burn. He made a mental note to exercise his stillness despite the aching in his body. 

That was months ago and although he was no seasoned model, Jisung had become more comfortable in his bareness and knew what poses he can hold for a certain amount of time. He really enjoys the job. It’s relaxing for him when he’s able to let his mind drift off as he poses. The pay is much appreciated too, the little extra boost of income from outside of his main job keeps him on his feet steadier than before. Eventually as time went on, he was able to have some input in the hours he was working. More than grateful for that, he’s now able to balance these shifts with his studies and shifts at the convenience store. 

Everything had fallen into place. 

Jisung’s class ran overtime, just his luck. There was no time to stop for coffee, which in hindsight was probably for the better, and besides, it was only one day without caffeine. He'd survive. Walking across campus was boring as ever. Familiar faces pass by, some kind enough to wave hello to him and not wanting to seem rude he'd wave back, regardless if he remembered them or not. The worst part of the short trip loomed in front of him. Stairs. The elevator in the Vis Arts building had been out of service for as long as Jisung knew, thus subjecting him to the pain of running up 3 flights of unforgiving stairs. He’s out of breath by the end and he knows that’s something to be seriously embarrassed about, but he’s been kind of avoiding his cardio lately. 

Art was never really anything that Jisung had paid attention to before, in a proper, appreciative sense. He was never interested in going to galleries because he thought that he'd just look out of place, yet almost every fortnight he'd enter the floor reserved for painters from the furthest door and take his time walking through the small studio spaces until he made it down to the last room where life drawing classes were held. He thought of the studio spaces as their own small gallery. One that he was definitely a lot more comfortable walking through. 

Jisung can hear indistinct chatter through the double doors, and small bubbles of nerves burst in his stomach. Taking a few deep breaths, he calms himself before pushing them open. 

It was a full class. Students are in various states of setting up, some doing warm up sketches while others swing themselves back and forth on their chairs as they speak to each other. Jisung makes his way over to the tutor, someone who he'd seen before in passing but never had the chance of being in her class. 

"Hi, I'm Jisung, the model for today," he wipes his palm on his jeans before extending his hand, "Sorry I'm late, I had a class go overtime." 

The tutor shakes his hand, not making any indication that she had noticed him trying to rid his palm of the light layer of sweat. She’s very welcoming, letting him know that she knows how some lecturers can get and that there were a few people who are still missing so they’ll wait until they show up to start. 

"They shouldn't be too long," she smiles kindly at him and he fleetingly thinks about how she's definitely the kind of woman one of his friends would try to lay. 

"I'll just go and-" he jerks his head towards the back of the room where a small prop closest was located. He weaves his way through the easels and makes eye contact with one of the students. He can't help but smile at them, a gut reaction before he opens the door to the store room. 

It's small. He fumbles for the light switch and his fingers drag through light dust. He cringes before pulling off his shirt, wiping his fingers on the inside of it. The room smells. Kind of like dust, something chemical and a hint of the lingering smell of his deodorant from all the times he’s changed in there. It's not horrible, but it's not exactly the best thing Jisung's ever smelt. He's used to it anyway. He strips, almost tripping over in the constricting space as he tries pulling his pants down while fishing out his robe from his bag. It’s nothing special, just a plain black satin robe that he picked up in the women's sleepwear section for cheap. It fits him surprisingly well, not too short and not too long, and it never fails to give him an extra confidence boost before each session. The storage room is suddenly filled with the smell of his deodorant again before he flicks the light switch off. 

He takes a second to adjust to the brightness of the studio, everything in the room seeming to blind him. There's too much white. White walls, white floor, white lights. He converses with the tutor as he stretches, and thankfully she has a clear idea of how she wants the class to go. Less planning for him. A few minute poses for warm up, a set of five ten-minute poses and seeing how they go for time, two or three half hour poses. Pretty easy, definitely not the hardest session he's had. 

It seems that the class has settled down somewhat, the room suddenly enveloped in a weird, expecting silence. The tutor motions for him to take place in the centre of the room. Sheepishly, he places his bag against the door of the prop room and disrobes. It takes everything in him to not say something idiotic to break the silence, but he's buck naked in front of fifteen people and they all look far too serious for a bunch of college students and someone needs to say something. 

"Okay, lets do some warm up poses. Jisung, when you're ready I'll start the timer." 

Taking his first pose, he lets the tutor know to start the timer and the world melts away. His body works almost automatically, contorting and stretching into positions that were easy to hold and easy to get out of in time. One minute passes and then another and then another. Jisung works on autopilot, mind fizzling out as he focuses on the sounds of charcoal against paper and making sure he doesn't shift even in the slightest. It feels like it's been forever and 3 minutes at the same time, so when he looks at the white clock that hangs on the white wall, he's surprised to see that only ten minutes have passed. 

The tutor announces that they'll be beginning ten minute poses and the same thing happens. He floats away on his thoughts and time is no longer moving slow-fast, but rather just slow now. Jisung starts counting how many poses he's doing and the faintest ache in his shoulder blades shows up around the third pose. It could have to do with the fact that his arms are raised or perhaps he didn't stretch efficiently enough. He rolls around the idea of asking for a break to stretch out the tiny pain, but he decides against it because he could possibly incorporate some kind of stretch in his next pose. 

He twists and turns, making sure that he's elongating his limbs and keeping stable. The worst that could happen is if his dumbass stumbles. It's happened a few times, especially in the beginning and boy, it was embarrassing and just a down right inconvenience. At one point, he can feel the muscles in his calf almost begging to spasm but he tries his best to hold back. He's come too far from the first session to be letting himself go like this. By the end of the ten minute poses, an hour has passed since the beginning of the class. His muscles are starting to scream at him. Thank god the tutor calls for a break. 

Knotting the tie around his robe, he takes the time to massage out the stiffness in his shoulders and neck. He even goes deeper in his stretching, making sure that nothing feels tight anymore. Digging around his bag for the water bottle he had chucked in before scrambling out of his dorm, he takes a huge mouthful and excuses himself for a second. 

No one ever really lingers around outside of the third floor, so Jisung doesn't have to worry about running into anyone on his way to the bathroom. He pisses, happy with the pressure that was building in his bladder subsiding, and he washes his hands half-heartedly before wiping them on the back of his robe. Exiting the bathroom, he stops for a second to unlock his phone and reply to the missed text from his roommate about who's turn it was to wash the dishes last night. 

When he arrives back to the drawing studio, he sees that some students have chosen to set up palettes. This only means one thing. The reality of how long these next poses will be dawns on Jisung. He exchanges his phone for the cotton sheet and small pillow he carries in his bag, not bothering to zip it up afterwards. Walking to the middle of the room, he drags the mat from the storeroom with him and covers it with his sheet, throwing the pillow towards one end. He tries to not think about how many asses and dicks and pussies have rubbed up on the mat before him without a protective barrier. 

Making conscious decisions about the angles and where he's facing is something that he struggles with. He gets so caught up in his head sometimes that he forgets to switch up where he faces. Sometimes all that some students come out with are ass drawings. And he's sorry for that, he's trying. With this in mind, he opens it up to the class. 

"Uhm, is there anyone who I haven't faced?" 

He twirls around, skimming all the faces until he finds a hand raised. It's a girl that looks around his age and there's this air of awkwardness around her that Jisung can't help but understand. It's kind of weird to be answering his question, in fact it's kind of weird that he asked in the first place. He just wants everyone to have a fair go. It's academic. Taking a deep breath, Jisung lays down on his stomach and prepares himself for thirty minutes of stillness. 

He's broken out of his daze, definitely not his short nap, by the jarring buzz of the alarm. For the second time of the day, Jisung blinks away the blinding lights and pulls himself up off the mat. Kneeling in his place, he stretches his arms above his head and tries to suppress a low, satisfied groan. The tutor suggests that all the students take a few minutes to walk around the room and look at each other's works. 

"How about we switch it up a bit?" Uh-oh. Coming from an art teacher, that only means trouble. The tutor is standing beside him once again. “What about an hour pose?”

"Doesn't this class end in half an hour?" The question shocks Jisung for a moment and he mulls it over. An hour. He could do it, he's done it before. Once. It's not like he has anything important to do after this, other than wash those damned dishes. 

"I'm sure the students wouldn't mind," her smile never wavers, "It's completely up to you though." 

His mouth moves before his brain and he finds himself lying back down on the mat, pillow under his elbow for extra support. He's reclined back, one elbow holding him up while the other rests across his middle. One of his legs is bent, the other lying freely. He knows that his arm is going to go numb eventually, but the pose is great. It reminds him of that old painting, the one of God and Adam. He doesn’t know its name but he thinks it’s pretty cool. 

The timer starts. 

Jisung scans what he can see of the wall in front of him. He follows the cracks and connects the dots that he figures are from thumb tacks, and counts all the scuff marks. The easels are next. Paint spots start to look like animals amongst the “DO NOT REMOVE FROM STUDIO” labels and the funny doodles threaten to make him lose his pose by smiling. He quickly gets bored and his eyes take a look around as far as they can without moving his head. A pair of platform boots gain his attention and he thinks they're pretty sick. He kind of wishes he had a pair. 

Time moves impossibly slow for some reason. Usually, he can completely zone out but he’s feeling some sorts of restlessness today and that’s not the most convenient thing to happen. He itches to see the works in progress, curious to know what he looks like in the eyes of others but he can only make out blocks of shapes on the paper of the one easel that he can actually see. It strains his eyes to continue watching so he leaves it. He hopes he has a chance to catch a quick glimpse at everyone’s final results at the end. In some previous sessions, he had the chance to walk around with everyone else and look at each of the drawings and it was quite surreal. Of course, he’s seen himself naked before. But seeing himself, his body, translated onto paper is an experience in itself. The first time he saw himself drawn, Jisung decided that was when he was going to start appreciating art more. 

Some more time passes. His mind wanders. What to have for dinner, more so what he can afford for dinner. What kind of route he wants to take for his creative project that’s due at the end of semester. He tries to come up with some beats and melodies in his head, but none sit right with him. He thinks about asking one of his friends to switch dorm rooms with him because he can’t stand the roomie he has at the moment. He just didn’t get along with the dancer, maybe he should ask to room with an academic student instead. He’s busy daydreaming, making up scenarios about living with a Lit student and how he could most definitely try to pawn off his essays to them for peer drafting and maybe even ‘co-writing.’ His head is ripped out of the clouds suddenly when he becomes aware of the feeling of someone's eyes on him. 

Jisung finds it unnerving. He’s in a room full of people staring at him, so of course he’s being watched but something about this particular gaze has his skin prickling. He forces himself to not turn his head to scan the full room and he finds out very quickly that he doesn’t have to move at all. 

It’s the person he passed at the start of the class. He didn’t have the time to take in their appearance in passing and something in him is glad that he has all the time now because the guy is attractive. Simultaneously wanting to curl up in embarrassment and jump out of his position to introduce himself, Jisung soaks him in. He’s pretty, all soft face and lilac, fluffy hair and it takes Jisung less than a second to realise that whatever he thought his type was, he thought wrong. This is his type. Boys in cut off shorts and round glasses that look like they’d braid flowers in his hair and paint him under the sunset is his type. He didn’t think he had a thing for softer guys but the way he was currently inserting this fairy like stranger into all of his fantasies says otherwise. It looks like there’s a future for them. 

Jisung almost forgets the reason he even looked at him in the first place. His temporary amnesia is quickly cured when he takes proper notice of the boy’s eyes. They’re insanely focused,eyebrows furrowed so deeply to the point where his soft boy image is thrown off. Jisung realises now why he had felt the guy’s stare on him under everyone else's. His eyes are like lasers, shooting beams onto Jisung’s skin and lighting him up. He feels hot under his gaze and he wants to crawl out of his skin because he’s naked in front of someone he’d really like to wine and dine and oh god, his eyes are trailing so slowly all over his body. 

All over. 

Jisung knows he should just look at the wall behind the guy. He knows he shouldn’t have really been looking at him in the first place but it’s too late because they make eye contact for the second time that day and Jisung melts. The other doesn’t change his expression, instead his eyes flit all across Jisung’s face for a minute and Jisung is willing his blood to not rush to his cheeks. He can’t stop looking. He tries to pull his eyes away and focus his attention on literally anything else but he can’t. He’s trapped staring at some dude he doesn’t even know and he can’t think of a way out. 

To his absolute horror, the pretty boy’s eyes have moved on from his face and to another, very compromising spot. Jisung wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. It’s not like he’s embarrassed of himself, he knows he’s well endowed so why is it that under this man’s heavy, scrutinising gaze, Jisung wants to hide. His eyes barely leave Jisung’s dick and his face is so void of any emotion that it’s torturous. Jisung thinks he can start to feel himself sweat. The air around him suddenly gets very suffocating, even more suffocating than the musty storage room. He has bigger things to worry about than blushing because his blood seems to have taken a sharp u-turn and it's all travelling south quicker than Jisung would like. Immediate dread sinks into his stomach. He hears someone audibly gasp to his left and it feels like he’s in a horror movie. The worst part of it all is trying to maintain a straight face and his pose while acting like everyone in the room is not watching him get hard. His gut instinct is to cover up but he doesn’t know if he can call a timeout on this, so he sits through it, fingers twitching. 

What he hates most of all is that it doesn’t get a reaction out of his imaginary lover. Everything in Jisung wants to know what's going on in his head, if anything is going on at all. This makes Jisung think that maybe he’s just used to it, that other models probably get hard in the middle of sessions too. Are they getting hard because of other people in the room? That’s something he really hopes he’s not alone in however, his doubts outweigh his wishes. Jisung doesn’t do anything but look up at the artist, for reasons unknown and hope his eyes don’t give away how much he needs a reaction. 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. He can’t tell because the clock is behind him and the guy’s eyes have still not left his member. Time must’ve actually stopped or this guy is taking way too long painting his cock. Jisung knows it shouldn’t take this long to paint a dick, fuck, even he could paint one in like thirty seconds and he’s never painted in his life. He must’ve been sending out major brain waves because his dick is suddenly free of the cute boy’s stare and Jisung feels like he can breathe properly now. Maybe it’ll go down now, but one thing he’s positive of is that they're nowhere close to finishing the pose which means that he’s going to have to endure the lilac haired beauty’s concentrated gaze on the rest of his body. 

Amazingly, he manages to zone out to some extent but his thoughts are unforgiving. His mind is filled with scenarios involving the boy across the room. His daydreams fluctuate; cute, teeth rotting thoughts of holding hands and walking along the beach are immediately followed up by steamy images and wondering what the guy’s large hands would feel like on his body. He’s definitely not any softer, in fact he can start to feel it throb, but he’s accepted that he’s just going to be sporting a boner for the rest of the session. He loses himself in the life he’s created in his head and the steady beating of his dick that he doesn’t realise the timer has gone off until his brain boyfriend stands up and gives Jisung a calculated look before leaving the room. Jisung gets up in a hurry, stripping the mat of his sheet and speed walks to his bag, grabbing it without stopping before locking himself in the storage room. 

Now what? 

He doesn’t want to rub one out in the small room but he doesn’t want to shove it into his tight jeans. He should’ve packed a change of clothes for emergencies. He has no other choice but to be uncomfortable for a while. Just until he gets back to his dorm room. Besides, his shirt would cover the bulge. He spends some time in the space calming himself down, drinking water, getting changed and figuring out what the quickest route back to his room is. 

The door closes with a click but he notices a flash of purple in the corner of his eye and he’s back in the storage room. Why hadn’t he left? Class was over, Jisung heard the tutor wish everyone a good weekend and he could hear students filtering out through the door. Suddenly he’s unsure of what to do. He has to leave eventually; he can’t spend forever inside the suffocating room. There are a few options he could choose from. He could walk out, say thank you to the tutor and leave. That was a good one. Or, should he say hello to the guy? Maybe apologise for his indecency? Jisung groans. He tells himself to stop thinking and just leave. So, he opens the door and tries a second time. 

He hears the tutor speaking to someone. Jisung assumes it’s the love of his life because all the other easels are empty. 

“...to clean up after, won’t you Seungmin?” Seungmin? Jisung’s eyes widen. That must be the guy’s name. 

“Yeah, sure thing Miss. I would work in my own space but someone stole my easel and I need one for this project.” Jisung decides on the spot that he wants to hear that voice every day of his life. He walks out from where he was eavesdropping and the tutor notices him first, a smile breaking out on her face. 

“Jisung!” She grabs one of his hands between her own and shakes them. “Thank you so much for today, you’re a wonderful model.” 

He ducks his head in embarrassment, smiling. 

“Thank you. Sorry about what happened-” 

“Oh no! You have nothing to worry about. It happens, you’re not the first one.” Her response makes him wonder just how many blood engorged dicks Seungmin’s seen in his time as an art student. He glances the other’s way and catches him quickly turning his head away from their conversation. 

Jisung can’t help but catch a glimpse of Seungmin’s figure studies and he’s pretty sure he’s actually just fallen in love. He barely hears the tutor announce her departure, choking out a quick thank you and goodbye before he’s striding towards Seungmin. His hand reaches out, carefully grabbing the thin sheet of butchers paper covered in charcoal drawings of him and he’s stopped in his tracks. 

“Can I help you?” He lets go of the paper like he’s been burnt. 

“I’m so sorry, it’s just-” He’s about to start rambling, he can feel it. “These are so beautiful. There’s no way I look like this, you’re really talented.” 

“I only draw what I see.” It doesn’t come off like a compliment. Seungmin’s voice is too blasé but his eyes are boring into Jisung’s and he feels his body betray him as his dick jumps in his pants again. Jisung takes it as a compliment regardless. 

“Do you mind if I look through?” 

Seungmin studies him for the shortest of seconds before he gives a curt nod and returns to setting up a large canvas. Jisung stands there in silence flipping through the pages. There’s so many, pages and pages full of all the poses he did as well as other candid drawings. Seungmin must’ve done them while the timer was off. He does seem like an overachiever. His fingers are dusted with charcoal by the end of it and he can’t believe that all of these are him. 

“Did you end up finishing the painting?” Seungmin pokes a thumb at thick cardstock resting against one of the easel legs. Jisung wipes the black off his fingers onto his jeans. 

He’s lost for words. His brain does supply him with anything eloquent to describe what he sees besides ‘wow.’ His eyes follow the lines of his body, taking in the colours. He can see the graphite sketch marks under the paint and he likes how raw it makes the piece look. Seungmin really has a knack for what he does. Jisung’s so elated, his body feels light looking at himself in this seemingly glorified way. It’s not him, but it is. It’s his face and his body but he doesn’t look like that. For the time he was given, Seungmin was extremely detailed. Jisung looks over it once, twice and on the third pass over, he properly notices just how much detail Seungmin had put into it. 

Jisung sputters and he looks at Seungmin, face reddening when he sees that the other had been watching him the whole time. 

“Is it bad or something?” Seungmin eyes him from behind his glasses and it looks like he’s preparing to pounce and defensively grab the painting out of Jisung’s hands. 

“No! No, it’s incredible. I just didn’t think you’d paint me, you know, hard. But,” He sucks in a breath of air and looks down at his illustrated dick and groans when he sees Seungmin even got the redness right. “But you did.” 

Seungmin’s lips quirk. 

“I’m not the only one who drew you hard, I can guarantee that.” Jisung tries not to stress over all the other paintings that have come out of this session with his dick like a red flag. 

“Yours is the only one I like though.” Jisung doesn’t even know what the other student’s paintings look like and it’s stupid because Seungmin knows he doesn’t know what anyone else’s looks like, but he means every word. He can’t stop staring at it. 

“Are you trying to buy it off me then?” Seungmin turns away from the canvas he’s working on, charcoal stick in hand and he steps closer to Jisung. “You look like someone who’d hang a naked portrait of themselves in their house.” 

It’s a straight jab to his ego and it feels good. 

“Bold of you to assume I’ll ever own a house-“ his snarky reply is cut short. 

All he can focus on is the way Seungmin’s getting closer and closer into his space and he swallows the saliva that collects in his mouth. He learns quickly that Seungmin is slightly taller than him and his brain short circuits. Seungmin has a very odd way of flirting. Jisung can’t place him. On one hand he seems like all those pretentious art kids he hears about but on the other there's this curious air about him, like he’s waiting for Jisung to say something. He is flirting right? Just as he thought the problem in his pants was almost fixed by the mundane conversation, a pair of lean arms are looping around his shoulders and it’s embarrassing how his body reacts to the simple touch. Jisung freezes. 

“If anyone here’s flirting, it’s you.” That’s definitely flirting. Seungmin’s arms are around him, that’s got to be flirting. Jisung is hot all over again and his thoughts are all a muddled mush in his head. Seungmin’s face is so close, he’s so close in general and Jisung can see his reflection in the other’s glasses. He promptly loses connection between his brain and his mouth. 

“I’m also trying to fuck you?” He sounds unsure of himself, and the sudden realisation of what he’s just said falls on him heavily. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I have a terrible case of no brain to mouth filter word vomit-“ 

Seungmin’s silent, eyes wide in shock and Jisung thinks for a second he resembles a puppy. The façade breaks almost as quickly as it starts when Seungmin scoffs right in Jisung’s face and he starts laughing. Jisung has no time to get upset about being laughed at because Seungmin’s dropping to his knees and folding his hands in his lap. 

“Straight to the point.” He tilts his head, giggling with a tiny grin on his lips as he looks up. “It’s Jisung right?” 

God, Seungmin doesn’t even know his name and that’s mortifyingly hot to Jisung. He nods quickly, choking out a yes and Seungmin’s properly smiling now. Jisung finds his dick likes that a bit too much. 

“Nice to meet you Jisung.” He’s not even doing anything inherently sexy, but Jisung’s been riled up for longer than he can remember now and everything Seungmin says and does is hot. “Am I okay to blow you?” 

Jisung has never said yes to anything faster. He’s been okay to blow him since Jisung laid eyes on him. Seungmin’s hands rise from their place on his thighs to quickly undo the button on Jisung’s jeans. He pulls the fly down with hungry eyes and moves to slide Jisung’s shirt up his chest. There’s still charcoal on his palm and it leaves a dirty trail on Jisung’s abs. His pants are down around his knees and Jisung quickly realises that this is actually happening. Seungmin’s breath is hot and wet against his stomach from where he’s mouthing at Jisung’s hips and all of a sudden there’s a hotter tongue tracing his length across the fabric. Glossy lips leave an imprint on his underwear when Seungmin presses a kiss to the tip. 

“Hold.” His voice leaves no room for Jisung to argue. Jisung immediately holds his shirt up by the hem. Their fingers brush against each other in the exchange and Jisung thinks he could come just from that. 

They find each other’s eyes and Seungmin takes this as an opportunity to make his next move. Slowly, he takes the elastic of Jisung’s waistband between his teeth and pulls. Jisung thinks he’s about to pass out. Pass out or shoot all over Seungmin’s glasses, both are very viable outcomes. Fuck flower braids and sunset paintings, he was so wrong about the seemingly innocent guy. Seungmin is more like being cuffed to the headboard and teasing for hours on end. His breath is punched out of him when Seungmin finally gets his mouth on him properly. He licks a stripe up the side, lips soft and balmy as they drag back down so he can mouth at the base. His lips are gone afterwards. Jisung’s close to complaining but Seungmin beats him to it, spitting right onto the head and Jisung breathes out a curse. 

Seungmin’s relentless. His tongue is sinful, spreading his saliva all over Jisung’s member and teasing all his ridges. He even spends some quality time with Jisung’s balls in his mouth and that has the model grasping at his shoulders. He doesn’t seem bothered by the spit that’s left on his forehead from Jisung’s dick resting against it. Jisung grows restless fast. Everything Seungmin’s doing is putting his mind in overdrive because he’s a tease and Jisung has little patience for that right now. He just wants to get sucked off, he’s already that desperate. He wonders if Seungmin knows this and if he’s just playing with him. The artist has him literally in the palm of his hand, ever since the drawing session after all.

He doubles over, hands reaching out to grab hold of the unstable easel and the canvas knocks against the small table, tipping a few brushes and an open tube of paint onto the floor. Luckily, barely any paint spilled. He looks down to see that Seungmin’s wrapped his lips around the tip after how long and Jisung’s in heaven. Seungmin makes a disgruntled sound and he scrapes his teeth lightly across what’s in his mouth as a warning. It’s as if he’s saying ‘Fuck with my painting, I dare you.’ It still draws a moan out of Jisung. Seungmin wastes no time now that he’s got Jisung’s dick in his mouth. A free hand comes up to push Jisung’s shirt back up again so he can run his thumb along the ridges of Jisung’s muscles. He takes the length into his mouth with little resistance and it makes Jisung wonder if he’s even got a gag reflex. Jisung’s a decent size, his exes haven’t had such a simple time giving him head. Seungmin makes it look like breathing. His still dusty hands are warm holding Jisung’s hips, head bobbing diligently and fingers collecting spit. Jisung’s given up on trying to stay quiet, moans streaming from his lips when Seungmin does something he especially likes. 

“Holy fuck-” Jisung’s hands are back on Seungmin’s shoulders, slowly creeping to cup the base of his head. Seungmin pulls off to spit another string of saliva on Jisung’s dick and he’s back on him in a second. 

There’s absolutely no reason that Seungmin looks like the dictionary definition of boy next door when his mouth belongs to someone out of Jisung’s treasured porn collection. His lips are wrapped tightly around Jisung’s cock, cheeks hollowed and he’s humming happily. The vibrations give Jisung butterflies and his eyes flutter shut. Without his vision, Jisung focuses on the feeling and sounds. It’s so wet. There’s so much spit, Seungmin’s slick lips and hands covered in bubbly saliva are forever ingrained into the backs of Jisung’s eyelids and he’s positive that the slurping and wet sounds are going to ring in his ears for weeks. Seungmin’s loud, and messy. Jisung opens his eyes. Seungmin’s pulled off, catching his breath with the tip of Jisung’s dick resting on his bottom lip. His glasses have slid down the bridge of his nose. He sticks his tongue out to flick it against the sensitive head, once, twice. A breathy laugh ghosts over the length when Seungmin sees the way Jisung pants. 

Seungmin winks at him, or attempts to. Both of his eyes look like they close but Jisung finds it to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Something about the way Seungmin’s mouth shines with spit while he struggles to wink does it for Jisung. He figures it’s because the artist seems to know exactly what he’s doing at any given time and the fact that he doesn’t know how to properly wink is endearing. The fact he probably knows he can’t wink properly and he pulled it out anyway while he had a dick resting on his tongue sends Jisung into orbit. He’s going to be the death of him. 

Once he’s caught his breath, Seungmin gets back to it. He bobs his head a few more times, the thick globs of spit running down his wrists now and tongue flat against the underside of Jisung’s length. He takes it in as far as it can go. The tip pokes the back of his throat and he moans, eyes trained on Jisung’s face. Seungmin makes a pleased noise when he swallows around it. Jisung can feel his orgasm building. His cock throbs from its place lodged in Seungmin’s throat and he groans loudly. A horrid, wet noise comes from the back of Seungmin’s throat as he tries to take more in and it echoes throughout the studio. Painfully aware of where they are, Jisung looks around the room and notices that one of the doors has been left slightly open. Enough that anyone could hear them. Enough that anyone could walk in to inspect the noises. Jisung has to forcefully pull Seungmin off before he comes down his throat. 

“I’m so close you have no idea.” Jisung gasps and Seungmin coughs, hand coming up to break the string of saliva and wipe away the copious amount of fluid from his chin. Jisung talks himself into being able to hold off before asking, “Do you wanna go somewhere to finish off or?” 

“No one's going to walk in. Trust me.” And Jisung does. Seungmin stands up and brushes off the charcoal off his knees. Jisung knew the floors were filthy. The artist shoots him a look, not entirely impressed with the state of the ground and his dirty knees. He pushes past Jisung. “I don’t wanna fuck on the floor.” 

“Great, me either.” Jisung stands there awkwardly, dick out and cold from the air drying Seungmin’s spit. He wracks his brain for anything he could suggest. “I can hold you up?” 

And he’s not lying. He’s done it before, albeit with the help of a wall, but he can. Seungmin turns around, an incredulous grin breaking out on his face. He scans Jisung once, as if he didn’t spend almost three hours raking his eyes over his naked form. 

“Hold me up?” His teeth capture his plush bottom lip, eyes dark while he blatantly checks out Jisung’s arms. 

“I work out.” Jisung shrugs. It makes Seungmin chuckle again. Then he’s crossing his arms, a playful smile on his face and he shrugs back in response. 

“Okay. Why not?” It takes a while for Seungmin’s agreement to process and then Jisung’s striding over, hands on the backs of Seungmin’s thighs and he hoists him up. Seungmin lets out a surprised squeal, legs instinctively wrapping around Jisung’s waist and his hands find purchase on Jisung’s shoulders. 

He walks them towards a wall and Seungmin’s back connects with a soft thud. Jisung’s lost with what to do now, how to move forward. He’s not sure that he should kiss Seungmin, that would’ve already happened if the other wanted it. At least that’s how it went with everyone else Jisung had ever been with and he’s honestly a little nervous to ask, so he leaves it. Seungmin’s legs unwrap from around him and he slides down the wall, landing on his feet. He looks at Jisung, eyes hooded with want and he’s spinning around, trapping himself between Jisung’s body and the wall. He presses his ass against Jisung’s front. Seungmin’s jean shorts are rough against Jisung’s sensitive skin but he ruts against him anyway. The movement draws out soft sounds from the both of them. Seungmin has his shorts down to his ankles in no time, and his briefs follow shortly after. Jisung grabs a handful of ass and squeezes. It’s so soft and Jisung has half the mind to just grind against it until he finishes, but Seungmin’s wiggling against him incessantly and he knows they’re both growing impatient. 

“Do you have lube?” Seungmin follows his question with a slow roll of his hips and Jisung bucks into the motion. It takes everything in Jisung to move away, jogging to his bag and pulling out a bottle and a condom. Seungmin raises an eyebrow. “So you just have that on hand, huh?” 

He blushes and decides to not mention that he had a hook up one week after one of his sessions with someone he’d met online. He just never took the bottle out because Jisung believes in being prepared for anything and if that makes him come off as a sex-brained college student, so be it. Better safe than sorry. 

“Do you just fuck all the art students who draw you pretty?” Seungmin’s voice is teasing and laced with something that stings a little. Jisung pours a generous amount of lube and warms it up between his fingers. He circles Seungmin’s rim and is very pleased when he sees a shudder run through the artist’s body. Seungmin sighs, smiling contently. “They’d be stupid not to let you though.” 

Jisung hums, Seungmin’s comment going straight to his head. He’s done rubbing his fingers across Seungmin’s puckered entrance, finally pressing his middle finger in. Seungmin’s warm inside. Jisung can’t wait to put his cock in there and he’s filled with new vigour. He’s only got the tip of his finger in, but Seungmin’s already moaning. He must be sensitive. Jisung works his finger in, twisting it around, thrusting it in and out. He brushes against what he guesses is Seungmin’s prostate and from the way Seungmin yelps, Jisung’s sure. He pours some more lube onto Seungmin’s hole. His index finger follows and he scissors them, working Seungmin open. Jisung gets them buried to the last knuckle with some work. Once he’s there, he wiggles them against the bundle of nerves, massaging it sweetly and pulling the most wonderful gasps from Seungmin. 

“Stop, I’ll cum! Really, I’ll cum-” Seungmin chokes out his words, panting like he’s already been fucked for hours. He’s voice trembles slightly and it sends Jisung reeling. 

“You’re so sensitive.” He says in awe, cock twitching. Watching Seungmin’s demeanour change so quickly was almost humorous to Jisung, pulling an amused huff from him. “I’m not even in you yet.” 

Seungmin groans, resting his forehead against the wall. Jisung fingers him a while longer, adding a third and even more lube to be safe. Seungmin’s mouth may be able to take him in a breath but he’s not too sure about his ass. He watches his fingers fuck in and out of Seungmin’s hole, mouth watering. One of Seungmin’s hands crawls towards his entrance, and as hot as that would be, having Seungmin’s fingers join his own, they’re dirty with charcoal. Jisung grabs Seungmin’s wrist and pins it against his back. He can feel the artist clench around his digits. He stores that information away.

“Are you gonna- Oh fuck, Jisung-” Jisung’s back to massaging his prostate, grinning at the way Seungmin’s knees shake again. “Hurry up?” 

Seungmin’s a loud moaner. Jisung thinks about the door that they still haven’t shut completely. He considers fingering Seungmin to completion, forcing out a second orgasm once he actually fucks him. 

“You’re so close, it’s cute.” Jisung’s fingers don’t let up from their spot inside Seungmin. He’s shaking, legs threatening to give out and Jisung breathes out a laugh through his nose. “You weren’t lying, I really could make you cum on my fingers.” 

The hand that’s trapped against Seungmin’s back writhes around in Jisung’s grip, long fingers trying to reach Jisung’s to get him to stop before he cums. 

“Don’t you- fuck please,” It’s crazy how desperate Seungmin sounds. “Don’t you dare- Fuck- I swear to god, Jisung.” 

Jisung pays him no mind. Instead he pushes a thigh between Seungmin’s spread legs and abuses his prostate even more. It sounds like Seungmin’s crying, his moans coming out like sobs and it twists something in Jisung’s stomach. He stops, checking Seungmin’s face for any tears but there’s no signs of any building behind the glare of his glasses. Seungmin slumps against the wall, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath and hold back his impending orgasm. His breathing hitches as he swallows down spit and he turns around in Jisung’s grasp, leaning against the wall for support. 

“Has any-” Seungmin’s eyes are almost closed shut and despite sounding incredibly out of breath, he’s got a smirk glued to his face. “Has anyone told you how hot you are?” 

Jisung’s caught off guard honestly. He thought Seungmin was going to chew him out, call it quits on this whole thing and leave him high and dry. But no, Seungmin is still very much into it, Jisung can tell from the way his dick curves towards his stomach. It’s the first time Jisung has the chance to see Seungmin’s dick. It’s pretty like the rest of him, no surprises there. If Jisung wasn’t already so close to bursting, he’d gladly drop to his knees and return the favour from earlier with matched enthusiasm. 

“Are you gonna fuck me against the wall or not?” Seungmin’s hands lace around the back of Jisung’s neck. He nods, ripping open the condom packet and sliding it on. His hands quickly find their places on Seungmin’s thighs and then he’s up. He adjusts himself, bracing Seungmin against the wall so he can free a hand. He lines his cock up with Seungmin’s rim and rubs himself there, slicked rubber against flushed skin. Seungmin’s face morphs into annoyance. “Don’t tease.” 

“That’s rich coming from you.” Jisung’s laugh is cut short because he pushes in. He isn’t prepared for how good it would feel right away. It could definitely just be his brain playing up the whole experience, but Jisung is positive this is the best sex he’s ever had and it hasn’t even really started. 

Seungmin’s nails dig into his neck. There’s a light crease between his eyebrows and Jisung’s not sure if it’s pleasure or pain. Slowly, he lowers Seungmin down his length. He refuses to break eye contact, he has to make sure that Seungmin is okay. Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow, mouth gaping open in a silent moan. Jisung bottoms out, completely buried inside of Seungmin. A choked sound escapes the artist, fingers now wrung impossibly tight in the collar of Jisung’s shirt. Jisung holds him there, letting Seungmin get used to the feeling of him.

“I can feel you throbbing inside me. You’re so deep, what the fuck?” Seungmin’s voice is strained. Jisung tests the waters, slowly pulling out. 

The lack of bad reactions from Seungmin calms Jisung’s nerves. He pushes back in, just as slow, still making sure Seungmin grows accustomed to him. After a few slow thrusts, Seungmin starts grinding down to meet Jisung and only then does he start moving faster. Jisung’s hips meet the backs of thighs, the sound of their skin smacking together fills the studio. Seungmin moans every time Jisung pushes back inside, back sliding against the wall from the force of Jisung’s thrusts. His hair bounces with the movement, glasses dangerously close from completely slipping off his nose. Jisung finds this absolutely adorable. His fingers are bruising on Seungmin’s hips, they’re both sure that there’s going to be marks left afterwards and Seungmin doesn’t care.

Jisung begins to feel tired. His arms ache from holding Seungmin up, fucking him down onto his cock. He’s used to holding positions without the extra movement. He pulls out, unable to help the small smile that makes its way onto his face when Seungmin whines at the loss. He spins him around, immediately pushing back in. Seungmin’s hand shoots out to curl around his waist. Jisung’s taken by surprise and before he can ask what’s up, Seungmin’s tentatively rolling his hips to find an angle that works. The prettiest moan leaves his lips when he finds what he likes and then he’s fucking himself back on Jisung’s cock. The sight has Jisung salivating.

“Oh my god-” Seungmin is really a force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t slow down, not once, happy to literally impale himself on Jisung’s dick over and over again. Jisung thought he was close before, but he’s right on the precipice now. He can feel it, right there ready to bubble over. “I’m gonna cum. Seungmin-” 

Jisung’s vision falters as he comes, twitching inside of Seungmin who has no plans to slow down. He’s definitely out of it and his grip on Seungmin’s waist loosening. He needs to pull out, his spent dick sensitive to Seungmin’s movements. He moves to do so but Seungmin’s fingernails dig into his side. 

“I’m going to get off on your cock, nothing else.” Seungmin grits his teeth. He’s close, legs shaking all over again but he’s determined. Jisung needs him to hurry up, his dick hurts. 

He slides a hand around Seungmin’s front and fists his cock, ignoring the other’s words. Seungmin’s legs actually give out this time, pulling Jisung out of his post nut daze to properly support him against his chest. Jisung proceeds to watch as Seungmin continues to fuck back as best as he can, hips rolling and simultaneously fucking into the hole made by Jisung’s fingers. His rhythm messy and faltering as he chases his release. It hits Seungmin like a train. Jisung’s never seen anyone shake so violently like this before just from coming and he feels every tremble. He watches in a mix of amazement and concern. His hand is wet. Seungmin’s moans quiet down, exhausted breathing the only noise coming from him. Jisung’s too scared to pull out. Seungmin is still experiencing aftershocks, hole clenching around Jisung’s length and he slumps back against Jisung. 

“Seungmin? I’m gonna pull out, okay?” He hears a noise of approval and then he’s pulling out. A shiver runs through Seungmin once more when he’s finally empty and Jisung’s right there, rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“You good? You shook a lot.” Jisung can’t mask the concern in his voice. “I’ve never seen that before. Not gonna lie, it kinda spooked me a bit.” 

He’s relieved when he hears a very tired laugh. Seungmin lethargically turns around, almost tripping on his shorts around his ankles and his laugh turns giddy. Jisung can’t help the surprised laugh he lets out when he sees the state of Seungmin’s face. His glasses are askew, the tiniest bit of drool slipping from the corner of his lips. His eyelids are so heavy. He looks- 

“Drunk. I feel drunk.” Seungmin reaches out for Jisung who gladly pulls him into his arms. “That was the best. Amazing, you’re great.” 

“Yeah?” Jisung’s more than relieved that Seungmin’s okay. “I really liked it too.” 

Jisung makes sure Seungmin can properly stand on his own before he thinks of cleaning them up. When Seungmin’s stable, Jisung walks over to the easel Seungmin was working at, and grabs a random rag that was laying on the table. He rolls up Seungmin’s shirt. 

“The shakings normal, don’t worry about it.” Jisung glances up to look at Seungmin and shyly smiles. He fixes Seungmin’s glasses for him. He starts cleaning the drying cum from Seungmin’s stomach, unaware of the still wet paint on the rag. Maroon smears across Seungmin’s stomach and Jisung’s spewing out apologies. 

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Jisung feels dumb for getting so worked up about it. His eyes follow Seungmin to the basin in the corner of the studio and he wets a paper towel. He holds up his shirt, tucking the hem between his teeth and Jisung is reminded of earlier. A furious warmth runs through him as he watches Seungmin clean paint and cum off himself. 

“So, uhm. I’d like to do this again?” Seungmin raises his head when Jisung speaks and his shirt drops from his mouth. Jisung’s afraid he’s about to be shot down, but Seungmin’s smile suddenly lights up the room. 

“That’s a relief. Me too.” They clean up in silence. Seungmin returns to his easel and Jisung gathers up his things. He lingers awkwardly by the side of the easel, unsure of what to say or do. 

“Thank you, for this.” Jisung gestures to the room like an idiot but it has Seungmin smiling again and he’d really do anything to see that smile again. “Maybe I’ll be booked for your next lesson or something, I don’t know-” 

Seungmin stops his rambling with a kiss on the cheek. Jisung blushes furiously. They exchange numbers, per Seungmin’s request and then Jisung’s out of the door. 

Jisung isn’t booked for Seungmin’s next class. He is, however, booked for the one after that. They both try to be professional, Seungmin especially, but they can’t help themselves in the breaks. They make out a lot and Seungmin tries to see if he can get Jisung hard before the next poses just to fuck with him. 

Jisung never gets booked to Seungmin’s classes again. He thinks another student must’ve caught on to whatever their relationship was and let one of the HODs know. That doesn’t stop Jisung from showing up every other week when he knows Seungmin’s stayed behind just for him, studio empty.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I did this justice ! I had a really fun time writing this one.
> 
> U can find me here: 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/grotkingji)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/grotkingji)


End file.
